RECONSTRUCTION 

Tne Crturck at Home and Abroad 
IN THE TRYING DATS TO COME 



Prepared b;p Dorom}> Cocks 

for me Centenan? Commission of me 

Board of Foreign Missions of me 

Memodist Episcopal CKurcK 



Copyright iqiq bj> WORLD OUTLOOK 



Photographs from Underwood & Underwood, Paul Thompson, 
International Film Service, "Carry On" and Red Cross. 



THE LANDS THAT 



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What is 



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ECONSTRUCTION is our full duty to the 
world. 



Reconstruction is a debt of honor, contracted 
while America was getting her wind behind the 
bleeding lines of the Allies. 

Reconstruction is an opportunity for America 
to prove that she was in this fight, this fight for 
Right and Brotherhood and Ideals, — in it up to 
the scalp lock. 

Reconstruction is the job of restoring to the face 
of the earth the things that have been torn up and 
knocked down. 

And Reconstruction means making room in our 
midst for the heroes who come back — many, the 
worse for wear. Those who would get trampled 
on if we didn't offer them our shoulder. 

Scattered through Belgium and France, Italy 
and Armenia, are scores of little tads who never 



Reconstruction ? 



smile, whose eyes are wide, who scream at the sight 
of a strange uniform, because the first uniforms 
meant such hideous things. These tiny lives must 
be started over again right — in an atmosphere of 
clean ginghams, games, gardens and God. 

Reconstruction will require a mental adjust- 
ment for those of us who were never altruistic till 
we were inspired by the war. Till the zeal of 
World Feeling made us work twenty-five hours a 
day to help win. Made us stint ourselves to feed 
Belgium and clothe France and save Armenia. 

That World Feeling mustn't die out when the 
war spirit dies out. It's a bigger thing than the 
war. It's a bigger thing than patriotism. It's the 
Brotherhood of Man Idea that incited us to jump 
into the Big Scrap. It's the Ideal we fought for. 
It's the Ideal we're working for still in the period 
of Reconstruction. 



What Casualty Lists Mean 



PICTURE the solemn march of the men who died in 
this war. French, Russian, German, Allies and ene- 
mies, — united now in death, — fall into line. Column 
after column, twenty abreast, marching all day, day after 
day. It would take four months for the tragic procession 
to pass. That is an appalling vision of the death toll of 
the war. 

An Italian regiment, whose romantic history dates 
back to the seventeenth century, saw such fighting in this 
war that it took 60,000 men to keep the ranks filled to the 
3,000 fighting quota. 

The loss in German officers alone is greater than 
the total German casualties in the whole Franco-Prus- 
sian war. 

Before the world went mad, in 1914, there were 
something over 3,000,000 Armenians. It is estimated 
that a million and a quarter — a third of the race — 
are dead! 

If everybody in the whole state of Massachusetts, 
and in the crowded manufacturing city of New Haven, 
were to die, it would be a hideous calamity that would 
shock the world. The population of that state, plus 
that city, is very nearly the death list of Russia. 



n"ke Great Loss 



V^yASUALTY lists aren't just statistics. 
They're tragedies Always. 

And to the far-seeing, they are the gauges 

registering the loss of man-power to the 

nation and to the world. In France 

alone, the strength of 200,000 arms 

and legs is gone. Italy's 










f Man Power 



peace work will be slower because 5,000 men 
were blinded by shrapnel. 

A day's report of a thousand deaths means that 
many potential inventors and leaders, miners and 
loggers, gone from the reckoning. Their vision 
and initiative, their coal and lumber, will not be 
contributed to the big task of Reconstruction. 

Tardieu is quoted as estimating that France has 
lost two and a half million men, dead, maimed, or 
enfeebled. The brave nation faces the problem of 
starting again, — almost at the bottom, — with one- 
fifteenth of her population missing. 

All that America has of money, machines and 
men, must be shared with the peoples of Europe 
to make up for the man-power lost in the War. 
We, the nation blessed with one of the shortest cas- 
ualty lists, can best express our thankfulness by 
shouldering the job of Reconstruction. 




6oo Milli 



101 



S 



IX hundred million days' work ! That's the de- 
struction of buildings in France. 



More than 454,000 tractors and plows that lay in 
the path of the Vandals were scrapped. Left on 
the junk heap. 

A cow wasn't a mere farm animal to the peasant 
of Northern Europe. It represented the Family 
Income. And the war dragon devoured a million 
and a half Family Incomes. 




)a})s' Work 



A million and a half acres of woods in France 
are lost. Throughout great areas, the very top- 
soil, once rich and black, is tawny and sterile. 
Four generations must only plant trees and wait 
for the leaves and roots to enrich the ground. 

Two million Armenians and Syrians are with- 
out homes. Their furniture is wrecked and 
burned. Their barns are scorched skeletons of 
buildings. Tools, seed, oxen, horses, — all gone. 

How can such property loss be estimated? 




^^^tafiate" 




The Makings 



iICTURE a home so old it was hoary with moss. Out- 
buildings rambled around it in all directions. Over- 
fed hens clucked around the door. 

Inside were rafters and walls black with generations 
of smoke. In a far corner was a giant bed. 

One* day a placard appeared in the village, that sent 
father and brothers off with confident laughs. While 
mother stayed home, with the sisters and kidlets, the 
Noise and the Fear coming nearer all night. 

Toward morning a shell landed in the giant bed. 

And when mother regained consciousness, and put her 

hand over to the pillow where one of the kidlets had been 

—the thought of that warm, cloying wetness sickens her 

heart yet. 

After that it was chaos, — hell. The house is only a 
gaunt chimney. The sisters — . Mother and the old cou- 
ple and the little folks wandered weary miles. Lived 
somehow. 




f a H 



ome 



Now they are wandering back. To the gaunt chim-. 
ney. And the charred posts of the giant bed. And with 
those resources, they will reconstruct a home. 

It looks like a hopeless task. But it isn't. For there 
is America, the wealth, the generous wealth that is 
America. 




"No Coal Fo 




r I ^ HAT'S the verdict of engineers 
A who have seen the wrecked mines 
of Northern France. Two years before 
a single ton can be mined. Ten years 
before the output will 
be normal again. 



Two Years ! 



Y^ ROM the tangled mass of twisted metal and 
-*■ broken stone that marks a factory site, tall 
chimneys will grow. Will belch forth smoke, and 
toot for the return of workers. But in the mean- 
while, the artisans, who wait for the factory whistle 
to summon them, face poverty and despair. We in 
America must fill those tin lunch pails till the 
whistle blows. 




The}) Lubricate 



r T^ HAT'S in Russia. Where the railroads are so 
-"- demoralized that peasants cannot get their 
products to the cities that are starving for them. 
And so they use butter to grease machinery. Peo- 
ple riot for food in towns a hundred miles from 
markets glutted with beans. Because transporta- 
tion is an unknown quantity. 

We think of Russia and leather in the same 
breath. But they send an S. O. S. to the outside 
world for ten million pairs of shoes because their 
factories are dead. The electric equipment of 
whole districts is wrecked. 

Belgium figures her losses in machinery and 
raw materials at over a billion dollars. Her indus- 
tries and transportation facilities have been para- 
lyzed for months. 

The nine thousand square miles overrun by the 
enemy was the industrial heart of France. The 
district represents only six per cent of the country, 



VitK Butter! 



but it paid twenty-five per cent of the country's 
taxes. The area produced 94 per cent of the na- 
tion's wool, and 90 per cent of the iron ore. And 
that nine thousand square miles is a barren waste, 
with buildings razed and fertile pastures ripped 
and torn. 

And suddenly the guns cease firing. The job 
of murdering is over. The business of living, and 
of earning a living, is paramount again. 

Europe faces a staggering task. One which she 
cannot undertake alone, for she is bled white. All 
that America can offer of money and raw mate- 
rials and machinery will be needed to rebuild the 
industries of that stricken land. 

More than that, we must convey, across the 
miles of ocean, the spirit of Brotherly Love. The 
spirit of the Good Samaritan. 

Your Church typifies that spirit. 



o 



ver 



/^UR outraged sensibilities still raw, rasped to 
the quick by what we have read, it is almost 
with relief that we turn to the problem of the after- 
the-war conditions at home. 

We haven't lost the man-power of two and a half 
million. Nor anythinglike that. Butevery gold star 
in a service flag means an irreparable loss, 
not only to the hero's family, but to his commun- 
ity. The products of his hands and brains must 
be counted out. The care of his children must be 
apportioned elsewhere. His job will be open to 
someone else. Perhaps a maimed man, — with no 
right leg, — will answer the Want Ad. Will he 
do? He must do. Industries must find a place for 
these men who kept the Huns from our shores. 

Our factories need not be rebuilt from the foun- 
dations. But the belts and the pulleys must be re- 



H 



ere 



adjusted to stop the output of gun carriages and 
resume the manufacture of plow shares. 

And in this industrial, social, economic and 
spiritual maelstrom, is there no ONE Force which 
is stable? Yes, — the Church. And it must be 
steadfast, resolute, resourceful. Ready to meet 
demands such as never existed before. Prepared 
to face a situation for which there is no precedent. 

The Church which satisfied the soldier who 
sailed away will not grip the Crusader who comes 
back, unless the Church has kept pace with his 
spiritual growth. Those fighters have been nearer 
God on the battlefield than they ever were in a 
pew. The Church must not fail to clinch that 
contact. 




Who Is 



The army is Young America. 

The army is our coun- 
try's offering on the altar 
of Democracy. 

And 20% of the army is 
Methodist ! 



The Arm})? 



The religious census of one regiment of Infan- 
try showed that 40 per cent of the men were Meth- 
odists. In a Machine Gun Battalion, the figure 
was 30 per cent. 

These instances may not represent an average. 

But the count of over a hundred thousand Y. M. 
C. A. War Roll cards gave Methodism the credit 
for over 16 per cent. 

Among the thousands of men in sixteen great 
camps all over the country, a record of denomina- 
tions proved that 20% of the army — 20% of 
Young America — is Methodist. 

That statement awakens great pride. And great 
responsibility. 

For it means that of every five 
men who offered their lives for 
their country, one was a Method- 
ist. If he died, his family is left in 
trust to us. If he comes back, the 
responsibility for his future wel- 
fare is ours. 

20% 

Methodist 




What are you going to 
do for HIM 



$t is plain enough- 
what he has done 
for YOU 







mm 



A "relic" of Ckateau TKierr^ ^M 



tVsuX&vv JjMZ^V 



T^7ELL, did you ever try to write with YOUR 
V V left hand? 

Till the muscles ached and the pencil wobbled? 

No, you probably never bothered with it as long 
as that. 

But suppose that you were a young chap who 
earned your living by the skill and steadiness 
of your hands. And you laid your tools down on 
the bench when you saw Uncle Sam beckon. And 
while you were in the trenches, a hand grenade 
swelled up three seconds before it was scheduled, 
and before you threw it, — and you saw your hand 
a dripping, scarlet thing. When you saw it again, 
it was a smooth, white-bandaged stump. 



VkAj/Jie^&€mcL'/ 



Learning to be clever with your left hand would 
become a serious business. When that incident is 
multiplied by scores, it becomes an expensive busi- 
ness. And YOU have the money to teach him to 
use his left hand. 




Uhe war has robbed 
these children of their 
father 



Does that mean 
anything to you ? 



Babi 



ies 



T 



ours 



T^ OR a time there ran amuck in Europe a Ter- 
ror flourishing a bayonet on which was im- 
paled a baby. 

The picture so horrified decent men who had 
babies, or who loved babies, that they felt justified 
in leaving farms, firesides, families and jobs to go 
battle with that Terror. They did it to safeguard 




Mi 



ine 



a 



Soldi 



lers 



our farms and firesides. Any money loss they in- 
curred was counted as insurance against the pos- 
sibility of having their babies, — or YOUR ba- 
bies, — die by being swung around on a bayonet. 

Now, — if one of those men lost his life in keep- 
ing that Terror away from our babies, — yours and 
mine, — isn't it up to us to take care of HIS babies? 




Our Mushroom 



T NSTANTLY, upon the close of the war, and 
the mustering out of our great army and navy, 
will begin the strain of readjustment of industry, 
re-location of employment, resumption of normal 
wages and prices, cessation of government control 
and war-inspired discipline, and relaxation of re- 
straint and self-denial. The liquor business and 
other evil trades will fight for the resumption of 




Industrial Centers 



their vicious activities. And these conditions will 
demand a Church alert, aligned, disciplined, intel- 
ligently informed, and whole-heartedly respon- 
sive; a Church with a Home Mission program ad- 
equate to these many varied and perplexing prob- 
lems of our own national life, both in the city and 

country." 

John T. Stone. 




A Steeple Among 

Where a town springs up over night a 
church should spring up before breakfast. 



T 



HE growth of some of our industrial "boom 
towns" has been like rank vegetation. 



They lack the fiber and strength of the old man- 
ufacturing cities of New England which grew 
after the method of the sturdy oaks. These new 
steel plants and shipyards are like the lush jungle 
things, they have no woody stalk. They shot up 
too fast — outstripped the other institutions that 
lend stamina to a community. And so they are in 
danger of destruction in the uncertain days to 
come. They lack character — backbone. Spiritual 
strength. Christianity. 

Our new industrial communities are not mere 
masses of chimneys and cranes. They are great 



axe Chimneys 



groups of people, thrown together under unusual 
conditions, living in a get-rich-quick atmosphere 
of bulging pay envelopes. 

Thought of in terms of these people, factory 
centers are a problem for the Church. 

The end of the war did not solve the problem. 
The dynamos and motors will soon be running at 
full speed turning out the enginery of peace. With 
the inspiration of patriotic zeal removed, there is 
greater need of the spiritual background of the 
Church to combat the atmosphere of commer- 
cialism. 

A challenge to Home Missions ! 

Where a town springs up over night a 
church should spring up before breakfast. 



Hlie Man WKo Left 



XTO matter what has befallen you, you are 

still a soldier. We have pledged our faith in 

you. We are for you and with you - always. 11 

The Director General of Civilian Relief 
to the returning soldiers and sailors. 




<^ 



ollege To Enlist 




Isn't He To Finisk 



IVTORE than ten thousand Methodist students 
quit the campus for the camp. 

Ten thousand boys who left Methodist colleges 
to enlist. 

After the war, — what? 

Must they come back and hunt a job? Join the 
ranks of untrained workers? 

Education meant a lot to some of those chaps. 
Many of them were "working their w T ay through." 
Selling magazines, mixing sodas, — doing all sorts 
of drudgery, — to get the money for college. Be- 
cause college meant a profession, training, — prep- 
aration for life. 

Many of those students were sons of men who 
had struggled through their own lives with the 
handicap of ignorance, and were content to make 
every sacrifice to give their sons those four years 
of training. 



"lis Education? 



After the war, — what? 

The well-known High Cost will make it impos- 
sible for the father to continue those sacrifices. 
When the lad sheds his khaki, he will have to buy 
his own mufti. How then can he hope to return 
to college? And yet college will enable him even- 
tually to buy not only mufti, but many more of the 
necessities and comforts of life. 

Isn't he to finish his education? Or must he, 
this young chap who offered his life for his coun- 
try, must he hunt a job with the same handicap his 
father had? 

The Methodist Church, recognizing the debt 
our country owes those lads in khaki, plans to offer 
scholarships to the returning students. 

Won't you help one soldier finish his school- 
ing? 



The CnurcH 



T 



HE sure way to miss success is to miss the 
opportunity." 



In Europe today there is an unparalleled oppor- 
tunity. We cannot dare to miss it, for with it 
we miss the prospect of an unparalleled success. 

The war has ripped open the heart of the people 
over there. Shattered every institution they clung 
to. Shaken off every vestige of veneer, till the tor- 
tured souls are bared to the world. 

And in those souls there is visible to the world a 
Need. A Need which the old ritualistic church 
does not satisfy. A Need which they themselves 
admit by their open-minded attitude. A Need for 
the Living Christ; not Christ the Crucified, but 
Christ the Comforter — the Living Christ ! 



Abroad 



That is a direct challenge to Methodism. 

All over Europe, as a result of the spiritual cata- 
clysm that has shaken the foundations of things, 
there is a great wave of religious feeling. 

A new Church must be developed. 

That is our opportunity. Methodists are well 
thought of as an organization. The mere fact that 
we are Americans is enough to warrant us an over- 
whelming welcome among peoples who have 
come to love everything that is American. 

The Methodist Church can go into Europe and 
show by its creed of Service and Love that ours is 
not a faith of doctrines, but a faith of deeds. 



n"ke Church Even? Da)) in fh 



Is YOUR church open seven days a week? 

With the saloons closing up — if yours is a Sunday 
Church — where do folks go the other six days? 

Where do the young people of your town get to- 
gether? 

Open up your church. Get people to 
come for talks, for movies, for song-fests, 
for recreation,- — which & means re-crea- 
tion. Get them to come till they 
get the coming hahit. 




^eek 




'TKe Church 



N 



OWHEREtogobut"out". 



In your town, when people get tired of their 
own wall paper, when they feel the desire to "go 
out," where do they go? 

For generations, the saloon has been a "some- 
where" to go. Slowly, but surely, America is be- 
ginning to realize that it is not a fit place. The 
Federal law has crystallized that realization. 

The same question "Where shall we go?" bom- 
barded the authorities when thousands of young 
men began to gather in army cantonments. It was 
answered in a splendid way by huts and hostess 
houses, canteens and community centers. 

Those soldiers have seen the need for whole- 
some recreation supplied in a clean and satisfac- 
tory way. They have been introduced to Social 



^t H 



ome 



Service in its highest sense — in the form of real 
food and real kindness. They have learned to 
think of pastors in the guise of chaplains who 
didn't talk down from a great height, but who 
talked straight out from the shoulder. Church has 
come to mean a gathering for prayer in a big 
room in which you gathered on other days for 
movies or a singsong, or a game of chess, or a 
gymnastic meet. To them Christianity means the 
reason they went overseas. 

These young men represent the rising genera- 
tion. And they have learned to interpret Social 
Service and pastors and religion — that way. 

The Church he left behind him has got to adopt 
a bigger and broader program to live up to the 
standard with which Johnnie comes marching 
home. 



KEEP ON 
KEEPING ON! 

You gave to win the war. 

The job isn't done till 
the rips and wounds are 

healed. 



Beloxtf is m$ subscription to fhe Fund for 
War Emergency) and Reconstruction — 

A subscription which represents what m^ 
heart Kas told me to give 

To The People Without Anj) Homes 
To The Soldiers Without An)) Arms 
To The Babies without An$ Dads 



Tour Name 
Address 



Amount 



Mail to GEORGE M. FOWLES, Treasurer 

in FiftK Avenue, Nev? York 



ii«r ?aRY of congress 

* »21 140 386 fi* 



